Kylie the Magnificent

by Marty Chan

  “Now you are in for a real treat. We all need a little magic in our lives, and today’s performers are going to amaze you. They are marvelous, they are amazing, they are my daughter and her friend. Please put your hands together for Kylie and Min!”

  The audience clapped.

  “Showtime,” I whispered. I had always wanted to say that.

  I led the way into the dining hall. I hopped onto the riser and waved at Min to join me. He looked like he was ready to puke as he stepped up.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” I boomed. “Prepare to be amazed. I, Kylie the Magnificent, will take you back to the time of Harry Houdini. The master of escapes!”

  The crowed oohed.

  Min whispered, “They’re booing us.”

  I shook my head. “No, they’re not. Just relax,” I whispered. Then I put my show voice back on. “Ladies and gentlemen, I am going to attempt to perform an incredibly dangerous trick. My assistant, Min, will shackle me in handcuffs, tie me up with these ropes and chains, and put me into this giant mailbag. I will then attempt to escape in the time it takes for him to sing the national anthem.”

  The crowd laughed as Min shot me a glare. “I am not singing,” he hissed. “Who said I was going to sing?”

  “Sorry,” I said, turning to the audience. “My assistant tells me he has a sore throat.” The audience laughed. “Instead, we will use a timer. Now, Min, if you’ll be so kind. Please tie me up.”

  Min began to wrap the ropes and chains around me. I puffed my arms out from my sides so that I could create some slack for later. He pulled a little tighter than he had done in the practice session. I guessed he didn’t like my joke about him singing. The rope dug into my ribs.

  “Easy there, Min,” I said, faking a smile to the seniors.

  The ladies in the front row laughed.

  “We have to make sure the restraints are tight,” Min said. “So that there’s no possible way she can escape. And now…”

  The crowd leaned forward as Min reached down into a box and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. The seniors oohed again.

  “A pair of police handcuffs,” Min said. “And the only key is right here.” He held up the key for everyone to see before he placed it in his jacket pocket.

  “I’m ready for anything you throw at me,” I said.

  Min slapped the handcuffs around my wrists and locked me up. Then he stepped back and turned to the crowd.

  “There is no way she can possibly escape!” Min boomed. “But…but…”

  He forgot his next line.

  I jumped in. “But just to be sure, do you want him to tighten the ropes?”

  “YES!” roared the crowd.

  Min turned to me and mouthed, Thanks.

  I nodded.

  “You heard the audience, Kylie,” he said, getting back on track with his lines.

  Min stepped behind me and yanked on the ropes. I pretended I was in pain as he moved me back to the giant mailbag on the riser.

  “And now I will be covered in this old mailbag,” I said. “And…and…Min…” I tried to get him to say his next line.

  Finally Min caught on. “Right. I will set the timer for seven minutes. Kylie must escape before the timer runs out, which is…starting now.”

  The crowd fell silent.

  “Here we go,” Min said as he pulled the sack up and over my head.

  As soon as I was covered, I tried to get out of the ropes and chains. The slack I had created earlier made them loose enough to slip right off my body. Now the handcuffs. I hit the secret latch to open them, but it didn’t work.

  I tried a second time. Third. Fourth. Fifth. Nothing.

  “Three minutes left!” Min announced.

  I could hear the audience clapping and cheering, waiting for me to come out.

  The latch wasn’t working at all. I tried to escape, but the handcuffs were snug around my wrists and digging into my skin. Ow. Nothing I did was working and time was running out.

  “How’s it going in there?” Min asked.

  “Good. I’m fine. Great,” I said, grunting as I pulled at the cuffs.

  “Ten seconds left, Kylie.”

  The crowd began to count down. “Nine…eight… seven…”

  Forget the cuffs. I had to get out of the bag. I reached up to undo the knot, but the handcuffs made it hard for me to do anything.

  “Four…three…two…one,” the crowd chanted.

  I was still stuck in the mailbag. The crowd laughed and then fell silent as I thrashed around.

  “Um…nothing is wrong. Everything’s perfectly fine!” Min shouted. “Just talk among yourselves while I…uh…I just have to check on one thing.”

  Nothing I could do would get the handcuffs off.

  “What’s going on?” Min whispered. “Get out of there.”

  “I can’t,” I said.

  “Why not?” he asked.

  “I’m still locked up,” I said.

  “We’ll fix this in a minute,” Min said to everyone.

  The crowd grew quiet. I thought I might have heard someone cough.

  “I’m really stuck,” I hissed.

  “Well, just flick the you-know-what,” Min whispered.

  “I told you, it’s not working,” I said.

  “Just get out,” he said.

  I tried one more time to slip out of the handcuffs, but they remained tight around my wrists.

  Min called out, “We’ve got this. Don’t worry. Almost there.”

  No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get out.

  “It’s no use,” I said. “I can’t do this.”

  Suddenly fresh air blasted the top of my head as the mailbag opened and slid down. Min glared at me. The seniors stared at us, not sure what to do next.

  “Ta-da!” I said, showing off my cuffed wrists.

  At the back of the room, Mom started to clap. A few of the seniors joined in, but most began talking to each other instead.

  “Nothing could be worse than this,” I said to Min as the residents walked and wheeled their way out of the dining hall.

  “I can think of something,” he said.

  “What?”

  He stared at me and then said, “We have to do this all over again in an hour.”

  Chapter Six

  Once the dining hall was empty, Min pulled out his key and unlocked the handcuffs.

  “I’m telling you I couldn’t make them work,” I said as I rubbed my red wrists.

  He slapped one cuff around his wrist and fiddled with the secret latch. It quickly popped open. He raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Well, they didn’t work when I was in the mailbag,” I said.

  “That’s because you didn’t practice enough,” Min said. “You were too busy revising my script instead of learning what you need to do to make the trick work.”

  “I was trying to get you to relax, Min.”

  “No, you were messing with me, and you weren’t paying attention,” he said, his voice rising. “I told you we weren’t ready, but did you listen? No.”

  I picked up the canvas sack and started to fold it up. “Sorry, Min. I wanted you to relax. You seemed so nervous onstage.”

  “That’s not the problem,” he said. “Failing to escape in an escape act—that’s a problem.”

  “Is this about the singing? I promise I’ll stick to the script next time,” I said.

  Min coiled up the rope. “No way, Kylie. We’re not going through that again. No way. For the next show I’m doing the escape. You can be the assistant.”

  “You haven’t given me a proper chance,” I said. “I know I can do it, Min.”

  “We can try it again once you learn how to do the trick right. That time is not now. We can’t risk another screwup in front of an audience,” he said.

  Mom approached us before I could say anything more. “Well, that was quite the performance,” she said with a small smile. “I guess you’re still working out the kinks?”

  “We’ll be much better
for the next show, Mrs. Mah-Cardinal,” Min said.

  “You were perfectly fine,” Mom said. She flashed her fake smile. When her teeth disappeared behind her thinned-out lips, I knew Mom was pretending. I remembered that fake smile from when Dad’s old army buddy slept over at our house and caught Mom staring at the dirty socks he had put on the end table. He went to move them, but she said it was “perfectly fine” and flashed her thin-lipped pretend smile at Dad. Mom’s fake smile was a pretty good sign that our show had sucked.

  “Don’t worry, Mom,” I said. “Min’s going to do the escape in the second show.”

  Her thin lips parted to reveal a toothy grin. “Well, if that’s what you think you should do, I’m not one to stand in your way. You two know what’s best for your show. I’ll leave you to get ready.”

  I tossed Min the mailbag and stomped to the other side of the stage.

  The second show didn’t get off to a good start. As the magician, Min lacked the charm to win over the crowd. Some of the seniors in the second group stared out the dining-hall window as Min talked.

  “Prepare to be taken to a world of wonder and magic. To the time of Harry Houdini,” he said. “You will be filled with wonder. I mean, you will be filled with the wonder of the magic you’ll see…today. This afternoon. Now.”

  Silence.

  I had to win back the crowd. I scooped up the rope and stepped to the edge of the riser. “The Magnificent Min will attempt to escape from ropes, chains and the dreaded handcuffs. And to make it even harder for him, he’ll do it all while being stuffed in this giant mailbag that stinks of old onions.”

  The seniors laughed. The ones who were staring out the window now turned to us.

  “Yes, and my capable assistant will tie me up. Kylie, if you please,” Min said.

  “Capable?” I said.

  “Yes.”

  “You mean amazing,” I said.

  “No. Capable,” Min said, deadly serious.

  I flashed a look to the seniors in the front row. They were chuckling.

  “Now please tie me up and make sure the ropes are good and tight,” Min said.

  I wrapped him in the rope.

  “Oh, don’t you worry about that,” I said. I winked at the audience. They laughed.

  I tugged hard on the rope to tighten it around Min’s arms. He doubled over as the rope dug into his stomach. The crowd loved it.

  “Not so tight,” Min said in a wheezy voice.

  “Oh. Sorry,” I said. I winked at the people in the front row. They cheered.

  One man yelled, “Tighter!”

  The crowd laughed. We had them back on our side. I wrapped Min in the chains and guided him to the riser so he could step into the mailbag. Then I held up the handcuffs and slapped them around Min’s wrists.

  “Do you want me to make the ropes tighter?” I asked the crowd.

  “Yes!” they roared.

  Min glared at me as I stepped beside him and pulled hard on the ropes. Then I knelt down and raised the mailbag up and over Min’s head.

  “This is my favorite part of the act,” I told the audience. “Now I finally have the stage to myself.”

  The ladies in the second row nudged each other and laughed.

  “Now to set the timer for seven minutes,” I said. “Will the Magnificent Min be able to free himself before the timer runs out? We’ll find out!”

  I started the timer and stepped off the riser while Min struggled inside the mailbag to get free. I headed to the first row of seniors and started making small talk. “So how are you? Do you like the food here? If you don’t, I know some people who know some people.” I pointed to the back of the room at Mom, who laughed and waved me off.

  Onstage, Min continued to struggle in the mailbag.

  “You okay in there?” I asked.

  “Almost. Almost,” his muffled voice called out.

  The crowd laughed again. Min continued to struggle. The timer had ticked off thirty seconds now.

  “Okay then. Take your time. Now’s my chance to be the star,” I said.

  The seniors clapped.

  I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out a deck of cards, then headed to a silver-haired woman in the front row. “What’s your name, young lady?” I asked.

  She laughed. “Margaret. They call me Mags.”

  “No, they call her late for dinner,” an old man yelled from the back of the dining hall.

  Everyone laughed.

  “Well, she’s right on time now,” I said. “Mags, take a look at the cards.” I fanned them out for her. “Pick a card. Any card.”

  She began to reach for a card.

  “No. Not that one,” I said, moving the cards away. “Pick another card.”

  Laughter from the crowd. Mags picked a card.

  “Now tell me what the card is,” I said.

  She glanced at the card. “The ace of spades.”

  “Exactly. That’s the card I knew you would pick,” I said.

  The audience laughed.

  “No, seriously,” I explained. “I knew that was the one she would pick.” I fanned the faces of the cards to the audience. They were all the ace of spades.

  Chuckles.

  “Oh, I see you don’t believe me,” I said. “Okay, I know Mags was going to pick the ace of spades because she has been sitting on it the whole time. Mags, can you please stand up?”

  I held out my hands to help Mags to her feet. As soon as she was up, the people behind her started to laugh, point and cheer.

  “What’s going on?” Mags asked.

  I turned her around to show her backside to everyone in the dining hall. More laughs. I reached behind her and pulled off the ace of spades that was stuck to her butt. Now the audience clapped.

  “I guess I got it right in the end,” I said.

  More laughs. I glanced at the timer. Twenty seconds left. Min was still doubled over in the mailbag. Something was wrong.

  I jumped up onto the riser, kicking the timer face down so the crowd couldn’t see that Min was about to fail.

  “Oops. My bad,” I said. “Hey, Min, how are you doing in there?”

  “Almost,” he said.

  “That’s what I used to say to my mom when I was a kid in potty training. Almost,” I grunted.

  The crowd howled.

  “Take your time. I’ve got all the time in the world,” I said.

  I held a lady’s silver watch in my hand.

  “At least, I have someone’s time,” I joked, looking right at Mags.

  I nodded at her to look at her wrist. I had to do it several times before she finally caught on.

  Mags checked her wrist. “Wait! T hat’s my watch.”

  The audience gasped and then broke into more laughter.

  “It’s mine now,” I joked, pretending to pocket the watch.

  They howled with laughter. I checked on Min. Still no progress. The escape wasn’t going to work. I had to figure out a different way to end our act.

  “Okay, I guess I can give it back,” I said to Mags. “But first let’s use it to time how long it will actually take Min to escape. I think I broke the timer when I kicked it over. Does your watch have a calendar function? Because this could take days.”

  The audience roared. They were loving everything I did.

  “I can get out on my own,” Min grunted from inside the sack. “Almost free…almost.”

  The mailbag finally opened, and Min stumbled out. He was free, but his wrists looked red and raw from the handcuffs still around his wrist.

  Min wiped the sweat off his forehead and bowed. He cracked a weak smile and tried to hide his cuffed hands from the crowd. I stepped in front of him and blocked the view. The seniors roared and clapped.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Thank you.”

  I glanced back at Min. He was not happy.

  Chapter Seven

  As the seniors headed out of the dining hall, a few stopped to talk to me. Mags led the charge. She got so close I
could smell what she had eaten for lunch. Tuna salad. Definitely tuna.

  “Young lady, I wanted to tell you that I laughed so hard I might have peed a little,” she said.

  “Well, that’s the first time someone’s done that during my show,” I said. “Now you’re sure you still have your watch?”

  She checked her wrist and laughed. “Of all the acts your mother has brought in, you’re my favorite.”

  “Really?” I said. “That’s great. Thank you.”

  “My husband wanted to be a magician when he was younger, but he never got around to it. He bought all sorts of magic books. They’re in storage. I can get my daughter to pull them out and give them to you if you’re interested.”

  “That’s so kind,” I said.

  “I’ll get them to your mom,” Mags said. “Keep it up. You’re great.”

  The other residents nodded. Mags joined them and walked away. I hopped onstage to help Min get out of the handcuffs. He had the key in his hand, but he couldn’t quite fit it into the lock. I grabbed the key from him and opened the cuffs.

  “I don’t understand what went wrong,” he said.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “It can happen to the best of us.”

  He tested the handcuffs, snapping them shut. “Not to me. I worked on the escape for months. I can get out of the cuffs in my sleep.”

  “I’ll bet it was the same problem I had,” I said. “Put them on me.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll show you,” I said.

  He slapped the cuffs on my wrists. I squirmed and twisted, trying to hit the secret latch, but nothing happened when I flicked it.

  “See?” I said. “They won’t open.”

  The cuffs remained firmly around my wrists.

  “It can’t be broken,” he said. “Try the latch again.”

  I flicked again. Nothing.

  Min tried thumbing the latch. Again. And again. And again. By his tenth try, the cuffs finally opened.

  “See?” I said. “The latch only works some of the time—it’s totally random. That’s why I couldn’t get out of them the first time.”

  “I’m sorry, Kylie,” Min said. “I thought you had messed up, but it was my handcuffs that were broken. I didn’t mean to blame you.”

  “Doesn’t matter, Min,” I said.

  “This is my fault. I should have tested the handcuffs before the show. I ruined everything.”